


It Falls to Ashes

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: A Bunch of Really Bad People In A Room Together, Blood and Torture, Captivity, Gen, Not Beta Read, Not for the faint of heart, Past Child Abuse, Probable Triggers, Self-Mutilation, Torture, Violence, You Have Been Warned, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 18:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19011556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just a fraction of Sanguinis's origin story -- How she became the vengeful murderer she is today.





	It Falls to Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> AGAIN: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART.  
> If you have triggers that relate to child abuse, torture, blood, or violence, or all of the above, I urge you to seek entertainment elsewhere, friend. Sanguinis is a dark, horrible character, with a dark, horrible past.

Her wrists hurt.

The electrified shackles holding her hands above her head were too tight. They were the same ones they had used on her ever since she was a child, a tribute to how truly emaciated they kept her. Anything to keep her controlled. Her fingers slowly turned blue, the familiar pang of numbness spreading over her palms. At the moment, it was welcome. Though she knew that she would be writhing in discomfort later when they removed the shackles and returned her to her cell.

Her head was pounding.

They had injected her with something before they came to the lab this time. It made a mess of her thoughts and made her feel everything: the chilling temperatures of the observation cell, the stare of the scientists upon her naked form, the hum of static from the force field separating her from them, and the bite of tools that have yet to even touch her. The lattermost feeling was likely a memory from the last time they drug her out of solitary confinement-- when they carved strange runes and symbols all over her face and body. Then, it felt like she was screaming for days. Or at least until her voice gave out and exhaustion overtook her. The carvings still bled and burned. She was forever on fire.

When the door of the laboratory opened, it cast a shred of light into the otherwise dark space. _He_ was coming. The head scientist, Dr. Nerrak. He was the only one allowed within 3 meters of her, the only one who could touch her without explicit permission. The last scientist who touched her without the proper procedure was crushed to death by the sheer force of her hatred. Somehow, Nerrak was immune to her. She was not allowed to make eye contact with him or speak to him. When she tried as a child, her attempts to communicate were met with open hostility and the lash of his neuronic whip. It was easy to confuse the head scientist for a slavemaster. Was she a slave? Or just his pet project? She didn’t even know what the purpose of all these years of torment was. But this was her whole world. It was all she remembered: chains, needles, and torture infested her childhood memories.

She turned her head down as he deactivated the force field long enough to step close to her. He stood there without doing anything, the sound of his breathing putting a hitch in her heartbeat. She hated being around him. He made her feel more vulnerable and helpless than usual. At least the other lab rats weren’t continually hovering over her, daring her to do something that would give them an excuse to hurt her. Finally, he moved, and she stole a glance towards his hands. He was holding a syringe with an unfamiliar black liquid in the barrel. The sight was unnerving, to say the least.

“Beginning Phase 86 of Project Sanguinis.”

Sanguinis? That was what they called her. Yes, it was coming back to her now. She was Project Sanguinis.

“Preparing to administer ASH-V1.”

If her restraints allowed her, she would have attempted to squirm away from him. Alas, she could only hope that this wasn’t what ended her as he pulled her head back and plunged the needle straight into her neck. She grit her teeth and bit her tongue to keep from screaming. It burned. It burned enough to make the carvings on her skin an afterthought. Just seconds after her tormentor walked away from her, she was shaking and twitching like she was possessed. The pain was indescribable, like someone set her nerves ablaze and split open her skull. She pulled against her shackles, groaning as blood filled her mouth. The lab rats outside maintained a wide berth from the force field, like they were concerned it would fail. With her eyes screwed shut in agony, she couldn’t see them scurrying to the back of the room, but she felt their terrified responses as they watched her struggle.

_She’s not coming back from this one._ Came a remorseful thought, a shred of pity from one of the rats who put her here. It was infuriating. But they were right, in a way. The quiet, submissive little _slave_ they knew was not coming back from this. There was going to be a change in this room today. She felt it in her blood.

It went on like this for what felt like ages, but was really only a few minutes. When it was done, she was lax in her restraints. Exhausted, she panted, feeling beads of sweat(or blood) rolling down the back of her neck and shoulders. At first, she thought that was it. That they had brought her out only to watch her scream, but then someone emerged from the darkness. She had never seen them before, and she was unable to sense them like she could the scientists. They were cloaked in a dark hood, and a menacing mask covered their face. In gloved hands, they held a strange pyramid-looking object. Cautiously moving closer to the force field, they placed the object on a pedestal she had not noticed before. The black drug had awakened something in that little pyramid, and now she and it were connected somehow. She felt it crawling into her subconscious, and found it impossible to look away. She did not notice her eyes glowing red, nor the lights flickering in the laboratory. She was being pulled in. Or was she the one pulling? There was whispering in her ear, even though she knew there was no one beside her. And they were getting louder… and louder… until…

_"Who are you?_  "The voice was monstrous. A deep, terrifying baritone that chilled her bones but boiled her blood. " _What is your name?"_

The question was easy to answer. She didn’t have a name. Just a designation. _I am no one. I am forgotten._

_"Wrong,"_ there was so much certainty in the voice that she almost believed it, " _you are destined for much more than this."_

She was uncertain whether she should be gratified by that response or terrified by it. She didn’t know how much “more” she could take. _What does that mean? Who are you?_

_"It means the ones who keep you are right to fear you. For you are a rain of blood and fire, a broken soul with jagged edges. You are the one I was meant for. My true name is lost to time, but the Sith call me Peril. Sanguinis, the harbinger of chaos, let us become one and we will be unstoppable. Your keepers will pay for every torture, I vow it."_

_I accept, Peril._ There was no hesitation. If this foreign entity can get her out of this hellscape, then she would be a fool not to take advantage of that. Suddenly, it was like claws were sinking into her mind, melding into her. Becoming her. Visions of destruction filled her, lighting a fire inside her. There was no longer a bargaining entity speaking. It was just her, still hanging from the too-small shackles. She felt _his_ presence nearby, watching her with excited apprehension. He wanted to see his results? He would get them. She snapped her head up, a primal snarl skewed across her face as she locked eyes with Nerrak. He was stunned, and he stayed frozen in what was steadily becoming fear. Terror. Every torture he had inflicted on her since she was brought here, every stab of a needle, the broken bones, gaping wounds, and electric convulsions from his whip, the pain of the ASH-V1… she made him feel it. She reveled in hearing him be the one to scream for once.

He had already fallen to his knees, clawing at his eyes until his fingers were bloodied, when his underlings snapped out of whatever petrified trance they were in. They scrambled to lock down the facilities, and one of them pushed the big red button connected to her restraints. Volts of electricity coursed through her, tearing her focus away from Nerrak. She didn’t scream this time. Simply let the electrocution drive her into unconsciousness.

_"Your tormentor will be forever blinded by his flailings tonight."_ Suddenly the voice was back, sounding amused.

_Not enough,_ she hissed, _I want Nerrak dead. I want him to beg me for mercy like I have begged him so many times before._

_"Good. He will rue the day he was born. Now, I ask you again: who are you?"_

_I am the rain of blood and fire, the harbinger of chaos, and my name is Sanguinis._


End file.
